


Beyond the Sea

by AdorableDoom



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Aftermath - Chuck Wendig
Genre: F/F, Past Character Death, Past Violence, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorableDoom/pseuds/AdorableDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jyn goes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for events from Chuck Wendig's novel Aftermath: Life Debt and potential spoilers for Star Wars: Rogue One.
> 
>  
> 
> Mentions of past violence and reference to character death.

       News is few and far between in the Outer Rim, even before the Empire's second Death Star exploded violently above the forest moon of Endor. Occasionally, if the planet isn't too backwater, there might be pod racing results or Gods forbid one of the propaganda pieces still being churned out by the floundering remains of the once mighty Empire (they're trying to paint themselves as the Rebels now. The underdog struggling against the oh so cruel oppressor. Ha! She hopes Palpatine is rolling in his fiery grave) or the inspirational dreck put out by the Rebel Alli . . . the ah New Republic. Jyn isn't sure which is more irritating. She's in a dingy cantina on a planet whose name sounds like a song coming from its residents and as if she'd tried chewing rocks coming from her when the holo cuts off the races (amid yells of protest and anger) with breaking news. Jyn is up and off her low stool, toppling it and more than a few beings on her desperate dash across the cantina and out the door.  
The words of the broadcaster follow her like a ghost.  
     Assassination.  
     Presumed dead.  
     Chancellor.  
       And she wasn't there. Should have been there. Another death . . . No! Jyn tells herself angrily.  
Yes good. Anger is good. Anger she can work with. Fear will get her nowhere. A voice that sounds like Chirrut, a voice she will no doubt hear in the back of her head for the rest of her days, says "Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."  
      Some old dead Jedi Master he liked to quote. Chirrut had told her the name Jyn was certain but with a fresh jolt of guilt realizes she cannot remember it. And Chirrut isn't here to ask. Not anymore. Again, Jyn forces the guilt and sorrow aside as she climbed aboard her X-Wing amid protests from the tech and her own astromech.  
Both of which she ignored as she threw herself into the narrow cockpit and strapped in. There will plenty of time for guilt and sorrow later, Jyn tells herself as she programs the navi computer. Right now, there's somewhere else she needs to be.

 

      Chandrila is a diamond. A beautiful, shimmering blue and green gem glittering in the inky blackness of space. It's beautiful but then again it would be. Mon was from there. "When we win I'm getting a little place on Chandrila. Right on the edge of the Silver Sea. I'm going to sleep on the beach and fish. No more fighting. Just sun and sea," Cassian had said with that lopsided grin she'd given anything to see just one more time.  
      They were nearing the final approach to the Death Star when he said it she remembered. Mon had taken Jyn's face in her hands before they'd departed Yavin. In a hanger surround by pilots and techs the world had narrowed to the two of them. Her hands were soft, wonderfully warm. "You're our last hope," she'd said. One last hope. One final chance. And they'd won. At a cost. A heavy one. Cassian never made it to the Silver Sea.  
      Unbidden, the image of her father rises in her memory. The shimmering blue water up to his knees, standing between them and the tide of stormtroopers that had followed them. He told them to run. Bodhi had to pull her away from him. Jyn tries to push the image away but it refuses to dissipate.  
      It was the first time she'd even seen the sea.  
      She could see the Silver Sea from orbit. The water was so blue that it seemed she could see clear to the bottom of the sea. "So it's not Silver?" she'd asked. They were lying side by side watching the lights dance across the ceiling. If she closed her eyes Jyn could still feel the softness of that auburn hair against her cheek and the delicate albeit strong fingers laced with her own.  
      Mon had laughed at that, a bright, ringing sound that Jyn would be more than content to listen to for the rest of her life. "It shines like silver when the sun hits it," Mon explained, equal parts fondness and sadness in her voice. She hadn't seen her home in years. Not since Palpatine had put a price on her head and forced her into hiding. Jyn squeezed her fingers tightly in the only gesture of comfort she could offer.  
     "I'll take you there," Mon promised suddenly, "when all this is over." She sounded so. . . certain. Someday this would all be over. The war would end and there would be peace and they would see the Silver Sea. They would be together.  
     They would be happy.  
     And Jyn believed her. They would win. They would see the Silver Sea. And they would be happy. Happiness that the Empire had tried to steal from her in an act of treachery and cowardice.  
And Jyn decides, throwing all her weight into the controls and beginning her descent towards the surface over the squawking and shirking protests of her astromech droid and calls from the control tower to cease and desist, that they cannot have it.        They cannot have her.  
       Jyn doesn't land at the hanger but rather touches down carefully on the carefully manicured green lawn of Hanna City's sprawling medical center. Various medical personal and patients have gathered at the windows chatting in nervous excitement. The city's security forces are already en route she imagines. None of it matters. Jyn unstraps and hops from the cockpit, wincing faintly as her numb legs hit the ground.  
Hooking her helmet to her flight suit, Jyn dashed into the medical center. The entire trip she'd been replaying the clip from the Holonet. The flash of a blaster. Small but lethal especially at close range. Mon collapsing in a flurry of white like a bird struck mid-flight.  
      She's alive. She has to be. She's alive and they're going to see the Silver Sea. No more fighting, just sun and sea. Jyn repeats it like a mantra, clings to it like a prayer.  
      The med center is sprawling, a city in miniature but Jyn finds her. The room is flanked by guards on either side of the door, both of whom train their blasters on her. "Hands up!" one of them, a massive Bith with a heavily scarred neck ordered as a soft voice from within the room called "It's all right. Let her in." The guards exchange a puzzled look but that moment of confusion is all Jyn needs and she rushes past them into the room. For the first time since she heard the report Jyn breathes.  
       Mon laid on a bed of white, propped up by two massive pillows. Her skin was ashen and grey with bruise like circles under her warm eyes but she was smiling. She's still the most beautiful thing Jyn had ever laid eyes on. "Did you actually land an X-Wing on the front lawn?" she asked with a soft, fond smile. Jyn finds herself grinning even as her burning eyes overflowed.  
     "Well, it just seemed quicker this way." She's amazed her voice is so steady, light even when all she wants to do is sob. Mon chuckled softly, eyes bright and wet. She opened her arms and it's the only invitation Jyn needs. She's across the room and in Mon's arms a moment later, holding the other woman as if she were a newborn bird and peppering her face with kisses as she cries like a child while Mon clutches her like a lifeline, her own tears wetting Jyn's shoulder.  
    "You came back," Mon said, voice teary and muffled against Jyn's shoulder. Jyn tightened her arms as much as she dared. The world had narrowed once more to the two of them. The Chancellor and the rebel. And there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Bobby Darin song Beyond the Sea.


End file.
